Donna Allen - Naughty nympho wife

When she arrived home she had a bath and dressed carefully, and then at eight o'clock sharp the front doorbell rang and when she opened the door she found a uniformed chauffeur with his cap in his hand. "Miss Leonard? Mr. Fogarty is waiting in his car."

Candice was amused. She thought at least he might have come to the door himself to get her. But of course it wasn't like an ordinary date. They were both married and she couldn't pretend it was an ordinary date.

Fogarty's car was a long black Fleetwood, and as soon as Candice climbed into the back she realized she was in the midst of luxury. Fogarty smiled at her and indicated the bar in front of him. "Wine, Candice?"

"Yes, thank you, wine will be fine."

They sipped their wine as the limo drove off. Fogarty called her Miss Leonard again and she corrected him, reminding him that she was married.

Fogarty chuckled. "Ah yes. You have a husband and I have a wife. But for the time being let's think about just the two of us."

He had to be past sixty. He had white hair and a sharp little face and a thin body. He looked healthy and comfortably rich and satisfied with himself. Candice wondered what his wife was like. She wondered how often Fogarty drove younger women around in his limo.

They talked about the gallery and about artists and then about women. Fogarty said he found women indispensable in his life. He put his hand on her knee. "Do you like sex?"

Candice was taken aback. She hadn't expected the approach to be so fast. "Yes, of course!"

Fogarty chuckled. His hand was still on her knee. Now he was rubbing her knee back and forth. "Not of course, you know. Some people don't like sex. They like food or they like gambling, but they don't like sex. It just doesn't appeal to them. And then there are those who think sex is wrong. You don't think it's wrong, do you?"

"No, I don't think it's wrong."

"I didn't think you did." He looked down at her legs, at his hand cupping one of her knees. "You have lovely legs. I noticed them the first time I was at the gallery and I always look at them when I come in. In fact that's one of the reasons I came down there. To look at Miss Leonard's legs. And now here you are sharing a bottle of wine with me and I want very much to look at your legs will you show them to me? I'd like to see your thighs."

Candice quivered. How strange he was. He had such an intense look in his eyes. She looked at the chauffeur on the other side of the glass wall that sealed off the rear of the limo. The chauffeur could neither see anything nor hear anything that went on behind him. She pulled her dress back. She slowly exposed her knees and thighs and then the upper parts of her thighs above her stockings.

Fogarty made a sound in his throat. "Oh yes, you're lovely." He rubbed her knee again, this time the palm of his hand warming the nylon of her stocking.

Candice was turned on. She thought he would slip his hand between her legs, but he did nothing like that. For the time being, all he wanted to do was look. She sipped her wine as Fogarty started talking about his art collection again. She opened her legs a bit, widened the space between her knees and thighs. Could he see her panties? She thought he could. He was such a strange old bird. She had her thighs exposed and her legs apart and now the crotch of her panties was probably wet. She itched to be touched and all he did was sit there talking about his damn art collection.

But Fogarty never did more than stroke her knee and look at her thighs. He took her to an elegant restaurant and sat beside her in a velvet upholstered booth. He started talking about sex again. For the first time he talked about his wife. Her name was Mary and Fogarty said she was still a young woman. "She's only forty. That's not old, is it?"

Candice thought forty wasn't that young, but she said no, it wasn't old. She said some women look better at forty then they did at twenty. Fogarty nodded and said she was right. He patted her knee under the table and said Candice was an intelligent young woman.

When they were in the limo again, Candice pulled her dress back and crossed her legs. Fogarty looked down at her thighs and smiled. "It's still early. Would you like to come home with me? I have some things I'd like to show you and I think we'll be more comfortable there than anywhere else."

Candice was surprised. "Won't Mrs. Fogarty mind?"

Fogarty chuckled. "Oh, don't you worry about that. We have a large house and we allow each other our little freedoms."

They did have a large house, a huge and lavish place set back from the road behind a screen of oak trees. Moments after they arrived, Candice found herself in a plush sitting room with a glass of champagne in her hand. Fogarty was talking about sex again, the needs and preferences of woman, how difficult it was for some women to enjoy themselves. She was too distracted by the luxury in the room and she didn't follow most of what he was saying, but then suddenly she realized he was offering to go down on her.

She almost spilled her champagne. "Oh my."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, you just took me by surprise!"

"Then how about it?"

Candice felt a flutter of excitement in her belly. "All right, I wouldn't mind that!"

She thought he would take her to a bedroom somewhere, but he insisted he would do it right there where she was sitting. He would suck her pussy right there in the sitting room while they drank their champagne. Then she said she wanted to use the john first and he told her he didn't want that either. He wanted her just like she was.

"I don't want to taste anything but you," he said. He had her quivering with lust, her hands trembling as she hurried to get her panties off and open her legs. Her dress pulled back to her waist, she slid her ass forward on the sofa cushion and dropped her knees apart to show him her cunt.

Fogarty went down on his knees in front of her. He gazed at her crotch, the tops of her stockings, the garters, the dark bush of cunthair, the puffy slit of her cunt, and down at the bottom the puckered ring of her asshole.

"Push forward a little more," he said.

Candice did it, her ass now almost half off the edge of the sofa. Fogarty raised her nylon clad legs, pushed her knees back to her chest, and told her to hold them there. Now all of her crotch was turned up and wide open to him. He ran his fingers lightly over her thighs and asscheeks, and then he lowered his face to begin eating her.

He did it in a way that was new to her. He started at her asshole. She hadn't expected it and she gasped with surprise. She'd had her asshole licked before, but never the first thing like this. The way her knees were pulled back and her ass turned up, she could see everything he was doing. She watched his pink tongue fluttering over her dark grommet. First came the fluttering and then the licking, up and down and around. He worked on her asshole until it was loose, and then he stiffened his tongue, pushed it inside, and held it there.

Candice was in heaven. Here was Arthur Fogarty, the richest client the gallery had, on his knees with his tongue in her ass. He was an expert. He stroked his tongue in and out a few times, then he pulled it out all the way and began fluttering it up to her cunt-hole.

Here she was dripping, her fuck-juice oozing out in a steady flow as her cunt pulsed with excitement. Fogarty slurped at her cunt-juice, sucking into his mouth. Then he pushed his tongue inside her cunt-hole and began fucking her with it.

It was better than anything she'd ever had, better than all the men and all the women, better even than Kelly the lesbian. Fogarty's tongue was longer and thicker and he knew how to work it in and out in a way that drove her crazy. By the time he pulled his tongue out of her cunthole and moved it up to her clit, she was primed and ready to go off. She rocked her legs and cried out and blasted off in his mouth. Fogarty opened his mouth wide, clamped it over as much of her cunt as he could get and sucked up everything she gave him.